


Could You Wanna Take My Picture? Cause I Won’t Remember

by EvelynsGrave



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Family, Future Fic, Missing Scene, Post-Canon, Reminiscing, Sad and Happy, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2020-02-16 19:14:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18697549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvelynsGrave/pseuds/EvelynsGrave
Summary: A moment in time immortalized by a random stranger’s Polaroid camera.She thought she’d lost it, but it made its way back to her.





	Could You Wanna Take My Picture? Cause I Won’t Remember

**Author's Note:**

> I was watching the ending of RE2make and thought, what a wonderful surrogate family. Then realized how disappointed I was at the lack of interaction between Leon, Claire and Sherry post RE2. 
> 
> This came out sadder than intended... but oh well. 
> 
> Title is a line from a Filter song, ‘Take A Picture’. And it’s a sad song. Maybe that’s why.

It was the last day they would spend in that small town before they move on to their next destination. 

Sherry had gotten used to the traveling and quite enjoyed the long rides. Claire acquired them an old but reliable car much to Leon’s protests, and he always looked so antsy on the road, Sherry thought. Maybe his wound had been bugging him, plus she did find him a little more uptight and formal compared to Claire. Claire had always been the funny one. Leon would crack jokes too, but they were only funny because Claire was always laughing at _him_. 

They went to a small park after buying some groceries and getting their laundry done. 

Her ‘parents’ were huddled together, sitting on a wooden bench. They were looking at a map. Claire had told her to stay close. She didn’t want them to worry so she obeyed, playing with her yoyo, but she was getting bored. 

A few feet away, she saw something that she had never seen before.

A lanky woman with glasses was hunched over a tall patch of grass and the lone flower that was sticking out of it. She readjusted her position and took a photo of the flower with her boxy camera. A slip came out of it, and as the woman protected the thin sheet from light, Sherry realized that it was the photo she just took. 

She was amazed, but skeptical. She watched intently as the woman took another shot, seemingly displeased with the first one. 

Her real mom and dad were never the type to take a lot of pictures. But they owned a camera and used it on the rare occasion that they spent time together. The pictures took days before they could be viewed. Sometimes, her father would forget about them and they never saw the light of day. 

She walked towards the woman for a closer inspection. She was a really timid girl, but boy she wanted nothing but to tell her how cool her camera was.

And a picture. She wanted a picture that didn’t take days to be ready and therefore would instantly be in her hands for safekeeping. 

The woman had noticed her inching closer and jumped a little in surprise. “H-hey, kid,” she said, pushing her glasses up her nose. 

“...Hi,” Sherry responded timidly. “I’m so sorry if I bothered you. But...”

She was always told not to talk to strangers, but she never regretted this one slight disobedience. 

A few moments later she was hopping back to Claire and Leon with the lanky woman in tow. 

“Clai— I mean, M-mom! Dad! She said she’s gonna take a picture of us with her magic camera!” 

She’d never forget the baffled look they gave each other. They both stood up when they saw the woman behind her. 

“It’s a Polaroid,” the woman said sheepishly, lifting the camera with one hand to show them. 

“I get to keep the picture!” Sherry said, beaming.

She joined them on the bench as they sat back down, but the woman said it would look better if they weren’t seated. She had them move away from the bench and onto a grassy area. Sherry naturally positioned herself between the two and took their hands in hers, swinging them.

“Hey! It’s just like after we escaped Ra—“ she said excitedly, but cut herself off when she felt Claire’s hand give her a tight squeeze. She heard Leon sigh and saw him scratch the back of his head.

_Oops,_ she thought. That was a close one. She let out an embarrassed laugh. She has to get better at keeping their secret!

The lanky woman said it was perfect, and she took the shot. 

On the way home, she repeated the woman’s instructions over and over again in her head: be careful not to fold it, store it in a cool, dry place, keep it away from sunlight, otherwise the image would be destroyed and would be gone forever. 

She took the utmost care of it during the long car ride. It had become her second most priced possession, next to the jacket Claire gave her. 

**~**

They were waiting in a room inside a big hospital. Leon wasn’t doing too good. He was pale and there were dark circles under his eyes. His wound was not healing and his fever was not going away. 

She was running a fever too, but she was no way in the same shape as he was. She wished she could do something. If only Claire was there to help.

But she had taken off a few days earlier to look for her brother. 

Leon was kneeling right in front of her so their eyes met. She will never forget the look on his face, and the way his voice cracked every so often, as if he was fighting the urge to sob. His hands held a tight grip on her shoulders and he spoke in a hushed but intense manner. 

He said people were coming who wanted to talk to them about Raccoon City.

He told her to pretend that Claire never existed. 

“If they find out about her, they’re gonna look for her and she won’t be able to find her brother.”

Sherry knew this, but pretending that Claire was never there sounded impossible. How was she going to be able to do something so difficult? 

“Listen,” he said, as if having read her mind. “Remember all the things you went through with Claire? Just imagine all of it happened the way it did— but with me.” 

“B-but...” she stammered. “What if I m-mess up—“

“No, no, you got this,” he insisted. “I believe in you. You’re a smart girl, always have been.”

“...What about your friend, Ada?”

He paused as if the question caught him off guard, then responded. “She never existed either.” 

He then loosened his grip on her shoulders. “This jacket,” he said, pertaining to Claire’s jacket that she was wearing and never took off except to sleep. “We bought it from that cool thrift store where we got rid of our stinky clothes. You remember that one, right?” He smiled, obviously trying to cheer her up. 

She gave a weak nod and tried to smile back. 

“And the picture...” he paused, faltering. 

“We can’t let them see it.”

“I know,” he said sadly. “I knew they were coming. So I mailed it somewhere.” 

She looked at him for answers. 

“I sent it to my dad far from here. Don’t worry. He’s gonna keep it for you until this is all over. Trust me.” 

“I trust you.” 

He nodded at her with a smile to convince her that everything was going to be fine. But the sadness in his eyes and his whole demeanor gave it away. Things were going to change from then on. 

“Let’s make a promise to each other to protect Claire,” he said, and they did their super secret handshake, a thing they made up to tease Claire and make her think that they were keeping something from her. 

Then he pulled her into a tight hug for what felt like a good minute, and she could swear he was sobbing quietly. 

**~**

Life went on for all three of them in separate directions.

They all had but one thing in common, and that is being married to their jobs. They were always in different parts of the country, or all over the world, always away from each other. But for the past eight years since she started working, she had made good effort to keep in touch. 

Claire was in frequent contact with her and they have even discussed the prospect of working together. 

Leon on the other hand, through no fault of his own, was sporadic in his communication. She could count in one hand the times he’d responded to her emails in a full year. 

So when she got a call from him, telling her he was in town, she jumped at the opportunity to catch up. 

He looked rugged and had become somewhat cynical, but was the same awkward but kind-hearted man who cracked lame jokes. 

Sean Kennedy had passed. 

They sat in a quiet bar. He was given a week of bereavement that he was spending in his childhood home. He hadn’t decided on whether to sell the house or keep it yet, he said, but he had been busy sorting out his father’s belongings. He then took out a slip from his jacket and handed it to her. 

She would never have guessed what on earth it was.

It was fading a little, but nonetheless in good condition. A Polaroid photo of the three of them, hands joined. 

She let out a soft gasp. 

“Old man did his research and did a good job storing it,” Leon said with a smile.

“Leon, I...” she replied, unable to take her eyes off of it. “I never thought I’d see this again.”

He shook his head softly, closing his eyes. “I always knew he’d keep it safe,” he said. “I just wish I remembered to ask for it.” There was something melancholic about the way it was said, as if he really didn’t forget about its existence, but rather lost the chance to bring it up. 

They spent the rest of the day together, catching up and planning for the next one. 

That night she had hugged her pillow tight and sobbed like she was eleven. She cried a thousand tears of gratefulness and sadness over a forgotten treasure. She cried for the lanky woman with the cool camera, bless her heart. She cried some more for Leon’s father, because she never got to thank him and had no idea what he even looked like. For Leon who had to undergo the heartbreak of finding it, grieving alone in his old house. And for Claire who was worlds away and couldn’t be with them to share the moment.

She wanted to be with them again, just like the old times. 

**~**

The framed photograph sat on her desk, basked in sunshine.

The original had all but faded into nothingness. One of the first things she did that day, 28 years ago when it was returned to her, was to copy it digitally. She had it reprinted and gave both Leon and Claire a copy each. 

She had framed it that same day and it had been on her desk ever since.

She took the photo and traced her fingers along the smiling faces. She remembered the night that she had cried after seeing it for the first time in years. Now she could only look at it with fondness and melancholy. She let out a soft chuckle. People must’ve found their little ‘family’ odd— two parents who were barely adults caring for a near adolescent who looked nothing like them. 

It remained the best time of her life. 

A year ago she reunited with Claire, who was in poor health but remained as intrepid as ever. She had always told anyone concerned that it would be a privilege to die old and in bed considering her line of work and the unimaginable horrors she had gone through. She always had good arguments. 

They have traveled together to collect what Leon had left under their names.

There were two properties under hers. One was his apartment in DC which was uncomfortably near-empty and devoid of anything personal. 

She deduced that the other address is his childhood home and took Claire with her on a plane ride. He had left Claire with all of his records. She recalled how they’ve always talked about having the same taste in music. 

He didn’t sell the house after all. It was old but had all the warmth that his apartment lacked. Hanging on the wall by the staircase were a handful of photographs— including the copy she had given him. There were no other pictures of himself past that age.

Claire had kept his graduation photo from the academy. He was a young, fresh-faced lad with a look ready to take on the world, Claire had described. She’d never forget the smile on her wrinkled face as she studied his handsome features. She’d seen that same smile back then, when they were much younger. The smile of someone who’s in love.

She let Claire keep all the other photos that she wanted but saved the photo of him with his father for herself. 

After all these years, Sherry had finally seen what he looked like. 

She set the frame back down on the desk. She looked outside the window of her office. The day was bright. There’s a lot of work to be done. 

It had changed, but the world remained a perilous place. 

She vowed to fight for the good that is left. Under her wing were a handful of equally selfless and courageous people that by the day have been making the world a safer place to live in. They have all been inspired by her story and what she became, and thus have been driven towards the same goal: to make sure that for each Sherry Birkin out there, helpless and neglected, there was a Leon and a Claire ready to save the day. 

She turned out alright.


End file.
